Wished Upon Parallel Lines
by vertigoSWAY
Summary: Cooper remembers the Sadie Hawkins incident well, the phone call, the image of his brother on the hospital bed, even though the days seemed like a blur. WARNING: mild mention of violence and gay-bashing


**Warning:** This mentions the Sadie Hawkins Dance so there's a brief description of Blaine's injuries.

**There will probably be a series of smaller one-shots for this, but they'll be published on my Tumblr.  
>If you're interested in a continuation, my username is "daltasia" so follow me!<strong>

**Title from _All Alright_ by fun. The last line is also inspired by a fun. song, _Carry On._ **

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><p>Cooper remembers the phone call. It's spring break for him and his professors have lined up project after project for him to start on. He's slaving away when the home phone downstairs rings. The caller ID says "St. John's Hospital." The thing is, he doesn't think about Blaine. His first thought is that his parents have gotten into a car crash on their way back from dinner.<p>

You see, he doesn't think about Blaine because the last he'd heard, Blaine was going to the Sadie Hawkins Dance with a girl.

It was quite a dramatic story actually. In hindsight, that's what made it so believable. Blaine channels his inner swooning Romeo perfectly when he wants to. The girl, Rosemary, had asked him to the dance and Blaine had accepted. The only problem was the overbearing dad who would never let her daughter date. They had devised a plan. Blaine wouldn't pick her up; unfortunately, they had to skip that part of the tradition. They would go separately instead. Blaine would leave with his friend Jason, while Rosemary left with her girlfriends under the guise of a sleepover.

Cooper was impressed with Blaine's antics. They nearly worked.

_Except,_ Cooper thinks once he sees Blaine on the hospital bed, _someone forget to tell me where the fine print clause was that said that little brothers got beat up at school dances. _

When Cooper answers the phone call, the nurse asks for a Joseph and Ruth Anderson. Cooper informs her that his parents aren't home and tells her his name. That's when his blood runs cold and the pieces start to put themselves together, despite how illogical they are. The dreaded name spills from her lips. "I have a Blaine Anderson in ER."

Cooper barrels into the ER. There really isn't a better verb. He's a mess, his sleeves still rolled up from studying, his forehead sweating like crazy, his heart pounding out of his chest, his hair ruffled and tangled. He's practically shoving people out of his way, nearly tripping on his own feet a few times. The receptionist is trying to flirt with him. She must be an intern because _dammit woman, I'm in the ER. It must mean something important is going on._ He nearly bites her head off before he gets the room number.

His parents are already there.

Broken ribs, bloodied face, bruised body, cuts, broken bones. They will scar; Cooper knows it. The doctor says that Blaine is lucky none of his bones shattered too finely. The splinters might have harmed other muscles or entered his bloodstream. That would have been fatal to his heart and internal organs. Cooper thinks that's a load of bullshit and he doesn't hesitate to voice his opinion. Blaine wouldn't hurt a fly so why would his happen to him? The doctor doesn't care though. He scrawls a few things down on the folder in his illegible handwriting with his fancy fountain pen.

It's Joseph that speaks first, once the doctor has left. "Blaine shouldn't have gone to the dance." Cooper stares at his father. He's an alien. How can those be the first words out of his mouth? How can he look so stoic while Cooper's mother is nearly in tears?

There are so many thoughts ricocheting around in Cooper's mind. The only one he can voice is a dumbfounded, "What?"

That's how Cooper finds out Blaine's gay. He doesn't even get to hear it from the boy himself. No, Blaine has been beaten within an inch of his life for being destined to love another boy and Cooper learns of his brother's sexuality from his father who spits out the story –conflict evident in his voice- about how Blaine actually went with Jason. He and Blaine were waiting for Jason's dad to pick them up when a few hocks who had gotten drunk from the punch thee athletes themselves had spiked.

Cooper looks like a goldfish, trying to fathom what's being said and barely registering his father leading his mother away –out the ER doors. There's a flippant remark about going home. "No point in waiting the night if they won't let us in." He just assumes and then he's gone before Cooper can properly react.

Now he sits, plastic blue chairs, same disheveled appearance. His head is in his hands and he's rather certain that he's going to pull out his hair sometime in the next five minutes. So what if Blaine's gay? He's hospitalized; he might need surgery. What about the physical rehab? _Those _are the thoughts Cooper is being plagued with. His brother's sexuality is not a problem for Cooper; college has broadened his views. Nevertheless, Cooper is still angry. He feels betrayed. Obviously Blaine didn't trust him enough to tell him. He didn't trust that Cooper would still treat him the same, still love him. What happened to the times when they were little kids and they would chase each other around the block? What happened to the old cliché of knocking over mom's vase and taking the blame for each other? What happened to late night forts made out of sheets and scary stories and flashlights?

There's a tap on his shoulder. A middle-aged woman holds a cup of coffee in her hand. "Mary," she introduces herself. "I'm Jason's mom." She gestures for him to take the coffee.

"Thanks," Cooper mutters, accepting the coffee. He isn't aware how dry his throat is until now. Something drops from his chin. He reaches up and finds a track of tears. Oh. He wasn't aware of that either.

Mary sits next to him. They don't speak to each other and Cooper is eternally grateful. She doesn't ask about his parents, about why he's the only one here at this ungodly hour. Together they are allies against the steady silence that falls over them. Finally, a nurse comes out of Blaine's room and introduces herself to Cooper as Bethany. She tells Cooper he can go in if he wants, but there's a catch. There always is. "He's been non-responsive," she says. "If he doesn't show any response in the next hour, we'll going to have to call it a coma." She's more sympathetic than the doctor, even patting him on the shoulder. "Let me know if you need anything," she smiles sadly. Cooper wonders if she knows that Blaine is gay and, if she didn't, how she would react when she was told. As Bethany leaves, Cooper glances back at Mary and gives a half-hearted wave before going into Blaine's room.

He hates the tubes. He hates them. He wishes that he could pull them out. It's unsightly and just the presence of them alone makes Cooper cry. This gives "no good deed goes unpunished" a new meaning.

That night, Cooper does something he's never done before. He prays. He prays for the first time in his life. He's not sure who he's praying to. God maybe? All he knows is that he can't stop. _Please let Blaine live. Please let him get through this in one piece. Please, I'll do anything. _He can't stop the string of pleas that tangle in his mind. _Just anything, give me a miracle God. Please let him wake up. Let him be okay._

God doesn't answer that night.

Three days later, after a shouting match with his dad, two showers, two changes of clothes and a few forgotten projects, Blaine's hand twitches while Cooper is holding it. All he can do is cry when the nurses and doctors usher him out of the room and close the door behind him. Relief washes over him.

After surgery and other procedures, Cooper goes back to visit Blaine. The air is tense the moment the older brother walks into the room. Blaine stiffens in his hospital bed. Cooper didn't think that was possible. Blaine shouldn't even have the _strength_ to seize up.

Metal scrapes over tile as Cooper pulls the sole chair in the room closer to the right side of Blaine's bed. He takes Blaine's hand and weaves their fingers together. "Hey," he smiles faintly.

"Hi Coop," Blaine croaks back. It's an ugly sound, but right now, it's the voice of the angels.

"It's going to be okay," Cooper says. "I promise."

And that's all the two of them need. They don't need a long explanation of what happened that night, not yet at least. It doesn't matter Blaine lied to Cooper or what Cooper thinks about the situation. It's enough for now. The mistakes made will be forgiven when the time comes.

Who said they were shining stars anyway?


End file.
